Ugh, it's been so long since I've written anything
Time for a break from drawing!
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The next day, I couldn't stop thinking about Savage. Was he back, or was this helmet just his remains? I didn't want to take any chances this time.
I gathered the other dragon riders that night and we all stood in the shadows of the trees outside the house, while Mom was talking about her travels with Johann.
“What's going on?” asked Fishlegs.
“We're going to Savage's island,” I replied. “You never know, something might be up. I'm not taking any chances.”
“Shouldn't we tell Valka?” asked Snotlout.
“No!” I said hastily. “She might try and stop us. No, this is something we have to do in secrecy.”
“Well, I'm up for a night flight!” said Astrid, who had been sitting on a rock next to us, her hand on her bump. She got up with a bit of a struggle, so I rushed to help her. I looked at her worriedly. I didn't want her to wear herself out.
“I'm sorry, milady,” I said gently. “But you're eight months in and it could... you know, come early. You need all the rest you can get.”
“But you forget something,” she said, a smile on her face. “I'm the only one of us who actually knows the way to the island. Remember, when I came to get you, when you had been captured by Savage?”
I sighed. Nothing could stop this woman. “Fine, but be careful.”
We finally arrived at Savage's island a couple of hours later. In fact, it wouldn't be long until dawn broke. But once we got through the mist surrounding it, we could see it had changed. A lot.
Giant ice spikes had sliced through the ground from underneath, and every here and there there was a masked soldier, frozen in place in the ice. The tunnels underneath the island had been thrust from beneath the ground with the force of the blast and parts of walls and doors could also be seen in the ice.
We crouched behind one of the spikes, our dragons doing their best to stay hidden too.
“It's clear what happened here,” I whispered, peering over the edge of the spike.
“But didn't the Bewilderbeast die?” asked Tuffnut.
“Not Drago's,” said Astrid, still on Stormfly's back for support.
Suddenly, a ship emerged from the mist. It was moving slowly, and it looked like only a single person was steering it. We quickly ducked behind the spike, so as not to be seen. And despite the mist still circling the small ship, we immediately recognised who jumped down from the deck.
Savage.
I clenched my fists. So he was back, after all.
He waded through the partly frozen water and walked up to the centre of the island. He stood there, silently looking round, as if he was waiting for something – or someone.
“Savage, you're finally here...” said a voice not too far from our hiding spot. It was easy to tell who it was.
Seconds after he had called out, the person emerged from one of the giant icicles. A person who also had a taste for revenge – and a missing arm.
“Drago, Drago, Drago! Nice to see you, my good friend!” said Savage, with a hint of malice in his voice. He approached Drago with his arms open, as if he was going to embrace him.
“Do NOT call me friend, Savage,” he snapped. “We are merely acquaintances, because that runt beat us both.”
“I think they're talking about you,” whispered Snotlout from next to me. I elbowed him in the arm, making him shut up.
“I would hardly say beat,” said Savage, inspecting his black fingernails. “Just temporarily eliminated from the battle.”
Drago grunted in response, and then turned to face Savage. “How did you get here, by the way?”
“When I want something, I take it,” replied the maniac, smiling maliciously. “And in this circumstance, I wanted a boat. So a sailor kindly gave it to me – after some convincing, of course.” He licked the ends of his fingers and dabbed at a patch of blood on his worn shirt, as if trying to wash it off. But to be honest, I think he was proud of his blood medals. “How about your transport?”
As a response, Drago faced the ocean and let out a tremendous yell, chilling us to our bones. Seconds later, his Bewilderbeast emerged from the depths, smashing everything in its way, including at least a third of the remaining island. Fortunately for us, that third wasn't the third we were hiding in.
Savage scowled. “You already froze my island when you found it. Why smash it as well?”
Drago simply chuckled. “My Bewilderbeast was beaten by the Night Fury, and so is now a weakling when it comes to honour, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need to let off steam. Or rather, ice.” As if in response, the Bewilderbeast let off a blizzard of snow from its mouth which made even more giant ice spikes around part of the island, forming a sort of defensive shield.
“And anyway, your island was already in a state, wasn't it?”
Savage looked like he wanted to throw a punch at the man just then, but decided against it. He was one against a man with a metal arm and a Bewilderbeast under his control. Not the best of odds.
What they said next was a mystery, because they walked further away from our hiding spot. Once they were a safe distance away, we all let out deep breaths that we had been keeping in, in case we had been heard.
“So... Drago's with Savage?” asked Eret, fearing what might be on his ex-master's mind.
“That's what it looks like,” I said, a ball of anxiety forming in my throat. “Savage, we can just about handle. Drago too. But both working together at the same time? May the Gods help us all...”
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